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by Melancholy's Sunshine
Summary: So Hermes and Hestia have a little secret. No they did not do the nasty and have a demigod kid together. Hestia is pure after all. But she is a goddess without a champion, so Hermes decides to help her out a bit.


How messed up can one life be? That depends on if it's good, bad or somewhat of a mix. It gets even worse when the gods are involved. The gods, they're special. Each having traits that make them appear, human at times.

"Consider this a gift Hestia," Hermes implored, attempting to make a deal. His smile warm and dangerous. The deal hidden to all but Zeus as he watched over all. The two sat on Olympus, in a lone room adjourned with many domestic items such as beds, cabinets, cookware, chairs, a table, and a roaring fire filling the room with a welcome warmth.

"What for? I have given you rest at my hearth, as I do all who come to me," Hestia replied tending to the gentle flames before her. She knew Hermes far too well. The god of travelers and thieves need. Place of their own rest now and again as well.

"For keeping peace? All those years ago with Dionysus? For leaving a spot at your hearth for me to return to whenever I please? Hestia. Please. Let me do this for you. You have no champion to call your own."

Hestia paused for a brief moment before returning her attention to the small welcoming flame. Hermes continued, "Even Hera... Or well, Juno has had champions. Sons of Zeus and Jupiter no less. And Artemis has her hunters. Athena creates children from her head. And yet you not once have had a champion to call your own."

"Why would you care if I had a champion or not? The hearth is a place to rest. Not a place to fight."

"But it is a place to protect," Hermes egged on, "Doesn't Ares go to war for more reasons than bloodshed? It's not much of a secret that he would protect you and battle to keep your flame alive. That he would gladly send his children to your aid."

"What is this really about Hermes?" Hestia hissed softly.

"I want you, to take my son, as your champion."

"Which one? Luke? He has a destiny. Your lover has even seen it-"

"No. Luke... Is doomed to be my son. How I wish I could free him, I cannot. Though you know which of my children I am talking about. You were watching as I met his mother near her home."

"He is a baby," Hestia smiled knowing which child he was offering. An odd offering to say the least.

"He... He is different."

"Is he like Luke?"

"I don't want him to be."

They both sat in silence for a moment. The flames crackled as they ate the wood hungrily, craving an offering from the world below. Hestia sighed.

"Very well Hermes. Your child, will be my champion."

Hermes smiled as they shook hands. Hestia's flame grew brighter. She had a champion to call her own. An offering from one God to another.

"Thank you Hestia."

Meanwhile, down below in the world of mortals shielded from the affairs of gods, a young woman sat on a greyhound bus with a small blue bundle in her lap. She cradled the small child as she grew closer to her apartment. She was of average height, a little plump with a heart shaped face and wavy bark colored hair. Her eyes dark rimmed from lack of sleep taking attention away from hazel orbs. She wore black sweats, a black sweatshirt, and a pair of sandals. She appeared as a basic bus rider.

She shook her arms lightly to rock the bundle to sleep.

"Aw! He's so cute! How old is he?" a little girl asked from the seat next to her. Her mother gave the woman an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry ma'am. Claire, what am I going to do with you?" The mother exasperatedly stated. The woman just gave a weary grin.

"Three days," she answered pulling the blanket away to show a little bit of the baby's face. Pudgy, hairless, eyes closed, just like every other baby people could find from the hospital, down to the cotton blue hat.

"What's his name?"

"Hector," the woman informed.

With that, the woman raised her son on her own for two years. She married a man by the name Sam Highland. They raised Hector together until she was diagnosed with brain cancer. She died when Hector was four, leaving him to be raised by Sam Highland. Mythologist and archeologist. And constant traveler.

Years of travel and only having one parent molded Hector into a decent young man. But in all of his travels, nothing could prepare him for his thirteenth birthday. It started out as any other day. Being god knows where in an RV, television static playing and something burning. Hector groaned as he buried his head in his pillow. His dark brown hair tussled into a messy bed head.

"It's too early for this," he grumbled. Lifting his head, he looked in the general direction of his father attempting to cook breakfast. Not that he ever succeeded but it was the thought that counted... If not for all the times they had to go to the grocery store or market to make up for it.

"Huh... First time I've seen bread spontaneously combust," Sam commented bewilderedly at his attempt at toast.

"Dad," Hector groaned from his makeshift bed. "Didn't we agree that _I'd_ be the one cooking?"

Sam impishly grinned at Hector.

"Where's the fun in that?" he questioned. Let it be known that despite what a good guy Sam was not a good chef, and had a lack of common sense.

"The same place the bread goes when you reduce it to ash," Hector stated with the blandness of cardboard. Pulling himself out of bed, he pushed Sam over and grabs a box of cereal. Sam rolls his eyes at the young teen and hands him the gallon jug of milk from their small fridge.

"So birthday boy, what do you want to do today?"

"Go to Canada?"

"What is it with you and Canada?"

"They have good maple syrup."

"Can you settle for pancakes at Waffle House?"

"Yes."

Sam laughed, moving to the driver's seat. He buckled up and began heading to Long Island's own Waffle House. Both began what they assumed would be a boring ride. And then came the horses.

Hector stared in confusion looking at what appeared to be winged horses.

"Maybe I should go back to bed," Hector stated.

"Why?"

"What do you see out the window?"

"I see two motorcycles."

"And that's why I'm going back to sleep."

"Motorcycles?"

"No. I think I've heard too many of your myths. I could have sworn I saw flying horses."

"Pegasi."

"Whatever. Flying impossibilitites of insanity."

"We are only a few miles from Waffle House. You are not going back to sleep."

"Fine."

Hector continued looking out the window, watching the bizarre "motorcycles" remain next to them.

He just stared at the fur, feathers and riders. Young adults. One with blonde hair and steel grey eyes piercing into the van. The other, a dark haired male with stormy eyes. He hoped said motorcyclists would not be dining at Waffle House.

He just wanted his maple syrup. Closing his eyes, he envisioned sitting down in a nice cottage in Canada eating pancakes piled high with maple syrup, warm, buttery and thick. A pseudo modern home with an old worldish charm. A place that seemed so comforting of home, and yet so foreign and forced. Feeling the RV turn, he opened his eyes to the Waffle House. And the weird horsies were still there. Great.

At least he'd be eating pancakes.

Stepping out of the car, he stayed close to Sam, becoming a barrier between Sam and the riders. They watched as Hector and Sam walked into the greasy breakfast hot spot. Hector and Sam sat down in a small both ordering a coffee and orange juice respectively. What could they say, Sam liked his orange juice.

"Why does everyone look at me like I'm crazy when I order pancakes?"

"Dunno. Maybe we should go to Ihop next time. Order some waffles."

"Don't knock their waffles they are delicious."

"I didn't say they weren't!"

Hector laughed at Sam's antics barely noticing the teens on the winged horses sitting near them. The both had water and weren't looking over a menu. They seemed to be staring around looking for something. He hoped they weren't some young cops or terrorists. He just wanted his breakfast.

"Be right back. Got to wash my hands."

"Alrigt dad. Don't get lost."

"That was one time in a warehouse."

"An empty warehouse."

"Shut up."

Hector stifled his laugh as Sam left to go to the restroom. Once out of sight, the dark haired male got up and walked over to him. He sat where Sam had been moments ago.

"Hello Hector."

Hector blinked. He felt like he was in the Avengers movie talking to Nick Fury.

"I'm here to talk to you about your parents."

At least he wasn't talking to him about the Avenger's initiative.

"What? My dad just went to the bathroom. And my mom is dead. So unless you want to tell me that that's a bunch of bull, you can go back to your little booth and leave me to enjoy my pancakes."

"You could see the Pegasi."

Hector froze for a moment. He lifted his coffee to his lips taking a cautious sip. Placing the mug down, he stared into the elders eyes.

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Let me talk Seaweed Brain."

Oh! Now the girl was here too. Now it was a party.

"I'm Annabeth. He's Percy."

"Hello? Look, I know you're probably trying to be friendly in your own special way, but you are really creeping me out."

"Hector-"

"I will scream bloody murder if you do not go away."

"-have you ever seen something you couldn't explain?"

"Have you met my dad? I can't explain how he can find ancient artifacts and explain ancient myths and can't figure out how to work a toaster."

Sad part was it was entirely true.

"People with astonishing features? Unknown animals?"

"I travel a lot. Weird is the new normal. Have you ever seen New York subways?"

"One eyed people? Three headed dogs? Winged creatures? People hiding in rivers in trees?"

"Are you on something?"

"Percy!"

"I just want to know if he's going to tell me he just saw a one-eyed, one-horned flying purple people eater and how I can get ahold of his psychiatrist."

"No. A fury will have to do," Annabeth grunted. Hector furrowed his brows in confusion.

"That's just what we needed," Percy groaned. Hector frowned.

"Okay, as fun as this is and all-"

"Stick with us and you won't die."

"What are you talking about?!"

He wished he hadn't asked. He didn't like the answer. Then again, smashing glass and leathery winged creatures that towered over him in size was rarely the answer either. People were screaming. Something about someone having a gun? Then why the hell weren't they using it?

People were leaving in a herd. Percy and Annabeth were between him and the... Thing. Sam still hadn't left the bathroom. He didn't know if he wanted him to stay put or escape.

His attention was redirected when he saw Percy pull out a ball point pen.

"Oh my god. There is a monster here and you want to make a pen mightier than the sword stand. I don't think that's going to work."

His eyes widened when that pen became a sword. He backed away from the insanity unfolding before him. Percy lunged attacking the creature with practiced movements. His mind seemed to shut down as he witnessed the onslaught of violence leading to the obliteration of the creature. He fell to his knees in disbelief.

"Are you alright?" Annabeth asked. Hector's hazel eyes flickered toward her, sparking a more yellow hue.

"That thing was real?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't the guy with the gun shoot it? Hell, where's the news crew?"

"They're coming. We need to get out of here."

"Excuse me? Will someone explain what just happened?"

"When we get somewhere safe."

"Holy shit!"

Hector looked over at the home of the voice. Sam stood dumbstruck looking around.

"Alright. I know I take a long time washing my hands but did a full out zombie apocalypse occur while I was gone?"

"Dad," Hector said running past the two psycho fighters. He threw his arms around his waist, Sam wrapping his arms protectively around him.

"We need to get out of here."

"Hector-"

"You stay away from my son," Sam growled. His eyes narrowed at the two.

"Look sir, we just want to make sure he's safe-"

"Safe?! What is going on?! You think this is safe? Are you insane? What are you talking about?"

"Sir, this is about his mother."

"What about Maurine?"

"She left you after she had Hector did she not?"

"My mom died," Hector spat out, "She had brain cancer and died. How dare you say she left like she had a choice."

"That's not true."

"Are you calling us liars?"

"No. Just unaware."

"Unaware of what?"

"Who your mom really is."

"My mom?"

"Yes, and we really should go before we attract more unwanted attention."

"Like that thing?"

"What thing?"

"The Fury."

"A mythical being? They are just legends."

"Sir-"

"Please call me Sam. Sir makes me feel old."

"Sam... There is no easy way to say this, but Maurine was not who she said she was. She was a goddess."

"All men believe their wives are such."

"No. In the literal sense. We are from a camp that helps children of gods protect themselves from situations similar to what just happened. And given that you have just turned thirteen, your godly parent will be claiming you tonight."

"Are you insane?"

"You just saw a Fury attack and you're asking if we're insane?"

"Good point. Dad, can you take me to a psyche ward?"

"We're telling the truth."

"Calm down Annabeth. Not every kid grows up knowing they're a demigod."

"I hate when your right Seaweed Brain."

"Look. Just say what you want to say and let us be on our way."

Percy and Annabeth looked at one another cautiously.

"I am Percy Jackson. Son of Posiden. And this is Annabeth, daughter of Athena."

"The earthshaker and the wise?"

"Exactly. Look, do you have ADHD, ADD or dyslexia by any chance?"

"No. I'd like to think I have a pretty good grasp on language and paying attention given how we travel."

"You travel a lot?"

"Yeesh, for people looking to kidnap me you sure don't know a lot about me."

"We aren't stalking you. Nor are we trying to kidnap you. Many demigods have trouble with conventional schools because their brains are hard wired for ancient Greek."

"Really?"

"No joke," Annabeth stated pulling out a piece of paper. The letters seemed to jump around but were understandable. It said Camp Half Blood.

"What does that say?"

"Dad, it says Camp Half Blood."

"When did you learn Greek?"

Hector furrowed his brows.

"Greek?"

"Yes. It's written in ancient Greek."

"So, what your saying is true?" Hector asked.

"Yes. But don't worry. Camp Half Blood is a safe haven for Demigods. We only want to bring you there for as long as your dad allows."

"And how long is that?"

"Well, he needs to be there when he's claimed. That way we know what kind of monsters will be after him. The stronger the parent, the more monsters that will appear. Is this your first time seeing one?"

"Yes." It seemed rather obvious with Hector's reaction.

"Then you shouldn't have too much to worry about. Just a few days to work on basic defense and you should be able to talk more with your dad about if you want to stay longer or not."

Annabeth's tone indicated a distinct belief that he would want to stay longer. He begged to differ.

"And when can we see this camp?"

"Hector should go today. You sir-"

"Sam."

"Sam... you won't be able to enter the camp."

"It's because I'm a grown ass man isn't it?"

"Not at all. You just aren't a Demigod. Only Demigods and oracles can enter the camp."

"Of course."

"Dad. I think I should go."

"Hector. Are you sure?"

"More sure than you making toast."

"You will never drop that will you."

"Never."

"... Alright. Then, I'll meet you at the museum in a week."

"You know, most parents wouldn't trust their kids to total strangers."

"Most parents don't have affairs with beings of higher power either," he stated in a distant tone. Hector was only familiar with that tone when he talked about his mother. Well, it seemed fitting given that he just found out that she was a goddess. Man that raised a lot of questions for him. He hoped she could answer them for him.

"Well. Just follow the yellow brick road?"

"No. We're going to ride out of here."

"Motorbikes?" Sam asked.

"Pegasi."

"Wait those are real?" he asked with a certain giddiness.

"Yes."

**Should we continue? Oh right... say hi to the nice people Antics  
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**Anticsareme: Do I have to? The most I did was blow things up.**

**Sunshine: JUST SAY HI TO THE READERS!**

**Antics: Fine. HIGH!**

**Sunshine: Not that kind of high!**

**Antics: They sound the same! It doesn't matter!**

**Sunshine: IT does matter!**

**Antics: Grammar Nazi**

**Sunshine: English killer!**

**Robin: Don't kill, enhance.**

**Antics and Sunshine: GET BACK TO YOUR FANDOM!**

**Robin: Alright yeesh. Someone's not feeling the aster. I guess not owning Percy Jackson and the Olympians does that to you two.**

**Antics: Shut up!**

**Sunshine: Don't forget Bird boy, we have the power.**

**Robin: Whatever. Review.**

**Kid Flash: Way to stir things up Rob.**

**Antics and Sunshine: OMG KF!**

**Robin: RUN!**


End file.
